I could have thrown them in the drawer and forgot all about them. I could always tell him I enjoyed the show. Or I could have given the tickets to that beggar I saw sitting on the ground on my way to the railway station. I gave him some money instead.
Rather stupidly, I mentioned the tickets when I got home.
Suddenly we all became artistic, sophisticated and modern and we should go to London and see the ballet. Up to then we were happy to be uneducated morons satisfied with football on TV and soap programs like Downton Abbey. But nooooo ... we now had to go to the ballet.
This meant we had to travel to London, it meant an overnight stay at a hotel, it meant having to eat at a fancy restaurant rather that have fish and chips behind the trash bins in an alleyway, it meant more expense like a lovely new dress and a nice suit for me.
What a waste of time and money. And there was a good game on TV too.
To top it all, they did not have popcorn at the theatre. Can you imagine? Sitting there for hours in the dark with no popcorn, no fizzy drinks or any sweets or candies. What a stupid place is this?
They were showing something called Swan Lake. I believe it is based on a German fairy tale and the music is by Tchaikovsky. Definitely not as good as The Beatles or The Rolling Stones, I tell you.
I read the story in the brochure they gave us at the entrance. £5 per brochure, would you believe? The worst £5 I spent and not got any popcorn!
Swan lake is about a prince called Siedfried who falls in love with a Swan named Odette. What an idiot. Anyone could have told him this relationship is not going to last. A prince and a swan!
She is a swan by day, and a young woman at night. Hmmm ... I shall not comment.
She's under a magic spell that can only be broken by a man who promises to love her for ever. A bit like the kissing of a frog syndrome, I guess.
Anyway, he promises to love her for ever and a day ... and night. But he is tricked by the magician who cast the spell. They both die and live happily ever after!
Not much of a plot, I thought. What was worse is that it was performed in the medium of dance.
There was this man in very tight trousers. We were sitting in the front row, and you did not need opera or ballet glasses to see the tightness of his trousers. What was all that about? I thought. Thankfully he did not sing, because I tell you it would have affected the timbre of his voice.
Then there was this woman, amongst other cast members. For some reason they all walked on tiptoe. I did not understand why. She ran at him. Threw herself in the air, And he caught her and lifted her up high.
If any woman did that to me I'd probably end up in hospital with a hernia.
This dancing about and music went on for ages. Which is a long time to go without a beer, or something to eat.
At the hotel room afterwards I pulled up my pyjama trousers up high and attempted to walk on tiptoes.
I was told I'm an ignorant jerk.